


remains of her name

by uptownpaerls



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Bad Humor, Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Demons, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Fake Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Lucifer's Cage, Major Character Injury, Possessive Lucifer (Supernatural), Protective Sam Winchester, Soft Castiel (Supernatural), Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, war between heaven and hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 18:12:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uptownpaerls/pseuds/uptownpaerls
Summary: Dean and Sam save a young woman who is wanted by both Heaven and Hell. Taking her along with them, she learns just what life a hunter lives. Somewhere along the way, she falls in love with just the type of man her parents warned her about.





	remains of her name

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is the first chapter to come in quite a few. i am excited to share this character that i have been working through for a while now.

Sounds of jazz echoed through the halls of Moon Manor, drifting into the closet of Eleanor Seraph. The young mistress of the house stared at the gown in front of her, it's red satin fabric capturing the light. As beautiful as it was, a small part of Eleanor hate it. The gown was a symbol of her imprisonment in the manor, another year spent within the 30 acres she called home. Eleanor hated every square foot, every oak tree and garden, that she'd run through as a child. They were a reminder that she would always be forced to stay within the safety of the large walls surrounding the property. The thought alone brought tears to her eyes.

Twenty five years spent in the same bedroom. Twenty two of which spend in the study and twenty spent in hours of rigorous combat training. Sure, she knew how to wield a blade, but it wasn't as if she would need it within the walls. Eleanor knew that this was the year she would leave, that she would finally get to see the world and all it had to offer.

Three soft raps on the oak door pulled the woman from her thoughts, bringing her attention back to the dress. "Elle, are you almost ready?" her aunt spoke from the other side, her voice almost drowned out. "Eleanor Grace Seraph, are you in there?"

Grabbing the dress from the hanger, Eleanor stepped into the gown, "Come in," she said, gathering the courage to finally speak. It was her chance to speak with her aunt, especially without her uncle around. Of course she loved him, but he was the reason she'd known how to kill a man with a salad fork rather than how to check the oil in her car.

Catherine Moon stepped into the room, her eyes landing on Eleanor's figure. A small laugh escaped her lips when she saw the girl struggling with the zipper. When her niece let out a frustrated huff, she was right at her side, soft hands placed over Eleanor's. "What's the matter, dear? I know that this zipper can't have you this miffed,"

How could she tell her aunt that she didn't want to be there anymore? The woman had done so much for her, she'd raised her like she were her own. "Auntie, do you think this is the year?" she started off, smoothing the sides of the gown.

"Year for what?" Catherine stepped backwards, taking in the sight of her niece. She'd known what Eleanor was asking. Still, she had wanted to hear it from her.

Eleanor tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "The year I can finally leave," she'd said after a moment. Immediately, she turned to face the woman, taking Catherine's hands in her own.

"Why on earth would you want to leave? You have everything you could ever want here. The world will always be there, but your uncle and I will not," she knew just what cards to pull on the younger woman. However, Catherine knew that she could not use the same excuses forever.

Eleanor softened her expression, "You that is now what I mean when I ask. Uncle Harry and you have always been so wonderful to me. Still, I hear voices at night that call me to the world, I can't help but feel that I am not supposed to be here anymore," sure, Catherine was smart, but Eleanor was taught her whole life how to manipulate situations and people.

"Eleanor Grace, we can speak about this when there aren't guests awaiting your arrival," Catherine kissed the back of her hand, beaming at the girl, "I will speak with your uncle on this matter, until then, we can stick a pin in this subject,"

With that, the women left the closet and made their way to the ballroom. The sound of jazz growing louder with every step she took. As the clock struck eight, the party had begun. Close friends of the family greeted the woman, their smiles forced and eyes empty. Something about the way they all looked at her made her stomach churn.

In the middle of the crowd, two men stood out like sore thumbs. No one she had known, but became cautious of. Their cheap suits made of polyester and not the fine Italian wool her guests normally wore. Eleanor knew they didn't belong there.

Sam and Dean Winchester watched the crowd, they'd wished it was easier to spot the girl Castiel called Eleanor Seraph. Hell, they didn't know what to look for, seeing as no angel, or demon, had been able to find her yet. "Dean, stop eating and keep your eyes out," Sam scolded his older brother, who took a bite out of another hors d'oeuvre.

"Sam, they're small sandwiches," Dean chuckled, swallowing thickly as he laid his eyes on a woman in a red dress. "Dude, dibs on the chick in the red," he dusted his hands off and straightened his suit. However, Sam's large hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Dude, what the hell?" he protested.

"Dean, I think that's her," Sam spoke, his voice low. Dean started to walk towards Eleanor, but it wasn't long before Sam pulled him back again. "Dean, what are you going to do? Just walk up there and tell her she has to come with us?" when he was met with silence, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, "Just, follow my lead," he cleared his throat and grabbed a glass of champagne.

Eleanor visited with an old friend, the laughter almost taking away from the weight she had on her shoulders. Vincent was always so sweet to her, and the summer they'd spent together as teens was something she called beautiful. Their moment was short lived, one of the men she'd seen earlier bumped into her, his drink making its way down her chest and into her undergarments.

"I am sorry!" Sam said in a slurred voice. "I wasn't watching where I was going," he scratched the back of his head. "I can help you get that out of your dress, if you'd like," Vincent took a step forward, his face red at the sight of Eleanor dabbing the stain on her chest.

Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. "Vincent, have Alfred drive him home, he clearly doesn't know how to handle his champagne," Eleanor stepped away from the men, ascending the stairs quickly. There was no doubt that her dress was ruined, and she'd worn it all but an hour.

Dean followed the girl up the large staircase, his eyes darting around. If he got caught, he was sure there was no way he could explain himself. No one at the party knew him, no one could vouch for her. Still, he needed to just grab Eleanor and make a quick escape out the back of the house. Everything was going according to plan, except for the part where Eleanor had him pinned to the floor in one swift movement.

A strained chuckle came from Dean, fueling Eleanor's anger. "What are you doing here? Why have you followed me?" she put her knee to his neck. Easing up on the pressure, she gave Dean a moment to explain himself.

"Look, I can explain everything," Dean coughed, his gun falling from the holster in his suit. "That is not what it looks like," he said, putting his hands over his head.

Eleanor grabbed the gun, pointing it at the man beneath her. "This looks like a gun. Were you going to shoot me?" she asks, her brows knitted together.

"No! No, sweetheart, maybe just a quick pistol whip, but you would've been fine," he gave her a smile, hoping his humor would get him out of it. His charms didn't work on Eleanor, hell, they angered her even more.

Standing up, gun still pointed at Dean, she backed away from him. "Is that your idea of a joke? Come on," she laughed. Sam came rushing up the stairs, raising his hands as Eleanor pointed the gun at him. "I should have known this was a set up. You didn't even smell the slightest bit like you were drunk,"

Sam, being the kind of person that he is, began to tell her the truth. "Look, Eleanor, you need to listen to me carefully. I'm Sam, that is my brother Dean, and we are here to help you. Downstairs, somewhere in that crowd, is a demon. They want to hurt you because, well, you're important to some very important people," he said, realizing just how crazy he must sound to her.

"Demons?" Eleanor let out a soft laugh. "Look, gentlemen, I'm not interested in your delusions. Right now, you have about five seconds to tell me what the hell you're actually here for or Dean here gets a bullet in his knee. Five," she began to count down. The poor girl didn't even have time to get to three before the gun flew from her hand.

Catherine stood at the top of the stairs, a wicked grin on her face. "Eleanor, you really shouldn't point guns at people, it isn't nice," she walked towards the group, sending Sam straight towards the wall with the flick of her wrist.

Eleanor's eyes grew wide as she watched Dean slide across the floor. "Aunt Catherine, what are you doing?" she exclaimed. Narrowing her eyes at the naive girl in front of her, Catherine's eyes became entirely black. Chills ran down Eleanor's back as she glanced over at Sam and Dean, who were unable to move.

"Auntie, Auntie! Poor rich bitch has to live in a fortress her whole life, boo frickin' who," she spoke, crossing her arms over her chest. "Catherine left the building weeks ago, I just couldn't make a move on you until today,"

Sam and Dean watched in horror as Catherine stepped closer to Eleanor, throwing her small frame against the wall. "Don't worry, princess, I won't kill you. The boss wants you back, sadly, alive. However, he didn't say I couldn't have a little fun with you," Sauntering back over to Sam and Dean, Catherine laughed. "I think I'll start by having a few of my friends kill your uncle and friends first," she turned.

Eleanor looked up at Sam, who subtly motioned to the blade in his waistline, "You know what, maybe I can start with that cute English boy, what's his name again? Vincent? Weren't you telling me the other day that you wished you could relieve the summer you were sixteen all over again?"

"You bitch!" Eleanor charged at Catherine. With the flick of her wrist, Catherine threw Eleanor up against Sam. "You touch him and I'll make you regret it!" she cried out. A sinister laugh filled the air as Catherine rushed towards the girl.

Grabbing Eleanor's face in her hand, she rose a brow. "You won't get anywhere with empty threats, darling,"

Gripping the demon blade tightly in her fist, Eleanor grit her teeth, "Who said they were empty!" she spit in Catherine's face before driving the knife through her stomach. Tears instantly forming in her eyes as life left Catherine's eyes.

"Ellie?" she gripped onto the straps of Eleanor's dress as the real Catherine came back into control of her body. Sam and Dean, finally free from the demon's power, gathered themselves around the two.

A sob escaped Eleanor's lips as she laid her aunt on the marble floor. "Shh, I know," she put a bloodied hand on her face, "I'm so sorry, auntie, I had to get her out of there. Don't talk, we are going to get you some help,"

Catherine smiled at Eleanor, "You should know who your father is," she spoke, softly, her voice cracking. "Your mother's diaries will tell you everything you need to know,"

"Don't talk like you're going to die, please, don't go," Eleanor cradled her head in her lap. Putting her hand over the wound, she tried to apply pressure. Sam and Dean looked at each other, quietly agreeing to rush down the stairs before the other demons could do anything to anyone else.

"Angels don't cry, remember? Dry your eyes, love," blood began to pool in the corners of her mouth, "Eleanor, you mustn't let them turn you into a weapon. You are stronger than them, stronger than any of them," Catherine burst into a fit of coughs, blood covering her niece's face.

Eleanor shook her head, "No, please, don't leave me here like this," she caressed Catherine's face. "Mom, don't go,"

"Ellie Grace, you have made me the happiest mother on earth, I love you," Catherine's body relaxed as Eleanor shook with sobs.

"No, let me say it back!" she shouted, "Come back to me, please," Eleanor put her lips to Catherine's forehead, "I did this to you," bringing her hand over her aunt's eyes, she closed them. With hot tears streaming down her face, Eleanor stood from her place and walked down the stairs.

Screams could be heard from the ballroom, fueling the rage growing deep within her. Grabbing the iron poker from the fireplace, Eleanor made her way towards the large oak doors leading to the ballroom. Kicking them open, she spotted Sam and Dean fighting at least six other men. "You want it? Come and get you sons of bitches!" she screamed, swinging at the men approaching her.

Sam and Dean looked at one another in disbelief. Eleanor was extremely swift and agile, planning her strikes ten steps ahead. In the time it took the boys to fight off one demon, she had managed to fend off the others for a moment. "How do we fight these things?"

The calm demeanor she'd had threw the boys off, but Sam was the first to speak up, "Here!" he tossed her the demon blade. Throwing the iron poker to him, she ducked a hit from the demon possessing Alfred, her bodyguard, and plunged the knife into his back. A loud shout came from the demon before it died, leaving Alfred's body dead, but empty.

The next three demons were benefactors of the many charities that her family had run. What Eleanor wasn't prepared for was the demon wearing her uncle. "You assholes really know how to ruin a girl's birthday, don't you?" Eleanor gripped the blade.

The only person she'd never defeated in a spar was her uncle. He was young and fast, his limbs were long, but he'd always used that to his advantage. It was clear that this demon was using that to its advantage. He was fast, but she was faster. Ducking under his fist, spun around and dug the knife into the side of his neck. Eleanor wouldn't allow her uncle to suffer as her aunt did, his death would be fast and as painless as she could make it. Tossing the blade to Dean, he drove it into Vincent's stomach. Everyone she'd ever cared about laid on the ballroom floor, in pools of their own blood.

"Eleanor," Dean spoke, tucking the blade into his waistline. Holding her hand up, Eleanor stopped him from saying any more. There was nothing he could say that would make her feel better. There was nothing anyone could say that would make her feel better.

A laugh escaped her throat, causing Sam and Dean to give each other concerned looks. "I was born December 12th, 1984, at exactly 10:02 pm. Happy birthday to me, right?" she laughed a little more as she sat herself on the floor next to her uncle. "Can someone please explain to me what the actual fuck happened here tonight?"

After what felt like an hour, Sam and Dean had finally finished telling her the truth and just what had happened leading up to them crashing her party. They didn't have to do much to convince the girl that they needed her to go with them, she had nothing left at Moon Manor. Her parents, her friends, and her ex had all been slaughtered.

Sam watched Eleanor put her clothes into a bag, keeping an eye on her as Dean took the bodies out back to be salted and burned. Their deaths were so terrible that Eleanor agreed that they would surely come back as ghosts. "I killed my whole family and I'm sitting here wondering what shoes I should wear to save the world from total destruction," Eleanor broke the silence with a soft laugh. "You said we were meeting someone in Kansas, an angel?"

"Yeah, his name is Castiel. He would come here, but he's trying to keep the other angels off our trail," Sam answered, entering the room slowly. He took note of how girly the room seemed, with lace curtains and satin sheets. The powder pink walls decorated with ballerina trim. His heart broke for the girl when he realized just how lonely she must've been living in the house her whole life.

Eleanor stared at her hands, still stained red from the blood. "Eleanor, you didn't kill them. You killed the demons that were possessing them. A life of possession is a torturous life, you set them free from that. Their blood isn't on your hands,"

Zipping up her bag, Eleanor pulled a key from her pocket. "My aunt and uncle had these keys on them at all times, switching it back and forth when they saw each other. I always thought it was to the safe, but it's to my mom's room. Sam, there is no coming back from this, is there?"

"No, there isn't. I went to Stanford to run away from this life and it ended up pulling me back in. No matter how far or fast I ran, well, here I am. Things are going to be different from here on out, but you don't have to go through it alone," he watched her put the key back into her pocket. It was they only thing she would take to remind her of Moon Manor.

"I'm ready,"


End file.
